


Curry

by darlingtimes



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Little Dialogue, but now they have curry and are happy, why she loves curry so much, yukio left and the tachibanas were sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingtimes/pseuds/darlingtimes
Summary: After Yukio left, Izumi and her mom are stuck in an empty routine, until one meal where her mom makes some curry.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	Curry

**Author's Note:**

> I love Izumi but I needed a rational explanation for her curry obsession. It ended up being more in-depth and painful than I thought. Enjoy!

“Is your mom as crazily obsessed with curry as you are?”  
“Hey, it’s not obsession, it’s more like I properly understand the charms of it. She does too, though not as much as me, and she taught me how to make it.”  
-  
Izumi remembers the day her father never came home, but more than that, she remembers the slow and lonely changes in her family’s “normal” routine.

In the beginning, it was terrible. They never lost hope for Yukio coming home, but for the first year the Tachibanas refused to even break routine to accommodate his absence. The days Izumi once reserved for visiting him were replaced with her reading play scripts alone, and the nights he would be home to make dinner for them were replaced with take-out. No matter how much they pretended it was temporary, and it would be okay with temporary replacements, each passing day felt more empty.

When Izumi’s mom had to take on more work to help their expenses, the fact that they’d have to plan for a life without him began to cement itself. Izumi was left at home alone more than ever, and even the rare days her mom could cook her dinner felt wasted, as Izumi couldn’t bring herself to appreciate the food when her mom looked so worn out and tired.

One day, the thought that he _wasn’t here_ finally hit Izumi. The day wasn’t different than the empty ones before it, but the loneliness had piled up too much to go unnoticed. A sick feeling of dread had been building up in her the whole day, all throughout her play rehearsal with the drama club, all the way home to a house she knew would be empty. When she got home, the words _what if he never comes back_ slipped into her head, and it was all she could do not to collapse into sobs right there in front of the door.

Izumi got in the house, locked the door, and headed straight into her room. She fell onto her bed and hugged her pillow tight, choking on the knot in her throat. After a year of pretend normal, she cried for a long, long time.

When Izumi’s mom came home that night, earlier than usual, she came home to some muffled sobbing. She froze in the entryway, guilt and pain sitting like stones in her stomach. She knew Izumi was lonely, as lonely as herself, if not more, but she’d never addressed it, the same way she never addressed the empty space at the dinner table.

Today, that would change.

Izumi’s mom resolved to set their lives back into motion that day, even if she didn’t realize it. She didn’t go to Izumi’s room to comfort her, like Yukio might have done. But she did head into the kitchen and make a meal she hadn’t made for a year: Yukio and Izumi’s favorite curry.

For this night, with Izumi in mind, she went all out to make a heartbreak-healing curry. She dug into their pantry for the expensive spices she rarely used, pulled out the nice platters they only ever used for special occasions (opening night, closing night, birthdays), and cooked the chicken to perfection.

When she was done, the smell of curry had filled the house. Izumi was out of it enough to not notice her mother coming home, but when the aromatic spices reached her nose she knew exactly what was for dinner that night. Her chest ached from bawling like a baby for who knows how many hours, but she got up and headed to the bathroom to wash up and face another tired dinner.

As she came out, she wasn’t greeted with the usual dimmed lamp light, but with the kitchen and dining room lights at full brightness. Her mom was busying herself spreading various dishes on the table, filled with vegetables and curry sides like naan and rice, in addition to the pot of curry itself.

Blinking her puffy eyes, Izumi said “Um, welcome home, mom. Sorry I didn’t greet you earlier. Is there...an occasion?”

Izumi’s mom looked up from her arrangement, paused, and without a word, walked to Izumi and hugged her tight.

“Izumi, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Let’s...have dinner more often together. And talk more. You’ve been growing up, but… Yukio, he… Without him, it’s been hard. For you and me. But, I love you, and I need to be with you more.”

Izumi choked up, and sucked a breath in. Hugging her mom back, she replied “I love you too, Mom. I’d...like that, but don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

After a few seconds more of hugging, Izumi broke off with a rusty chuckle, saying, “Well, how about we eat that curry before it gets cold?”

“Yes, let’s. I used all the spices today, just how you like it,” said her mom with a tentative smile. “It’s your favorite, so you better eat up.”

That night, they talked what felt more than that entire, cold year combined. Izumi told her mom about all her misadventures in acting, and they even joked about what Yukio would say, when his name had been a silent taboo for so long.

From that night on, they made more plans without an empty, painful space left for Yukio, though there would always be room for him if--when he came back. Izumi and her mom were no longer stuck in an routine one person short; they learned to make two people enough.  
-  
“Hey, Mom? Teach me how to make curry, too. I want to be able to make dinner for you too, and for myself when you’re not home.”

“All right. Maybe let’s get a fire extinguisher before that, in case you’re as clumsy in the kitchen as you are during drama club.”

“First of all, I don’t think me having a slight tendency to fall has anything to do with fire.”

“Whatever you say, Izumi.”

**Author's Note:**

> I! Don't feel like I know what I'm doing when I'm writing! So I'd appreciate any thoughts you have, like if the language is stiff or the flow is odd, because then I'd feel like I can improve. And praise is always appreciated, if you did like it. Thank you for reading!!


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